


paranoiac intervals

by Anonymous



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Gen, Hybrid Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Mild Comfort, Time Travel, eventual bros schlatt & tubbo, ghost!tubbo, pissed and on a mission to fix the past, that's right. time travel fic, tubbo is a ghost and he's PISSED
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:08:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28909086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Tubbo came to standing on a familiar podium, the one he had lost his second life on, the one that had been sent sky high after Wilbur had blown up L'manberg and Techno had unleashed his first set of Withers. Why was he here? Hadn’t he...died? That’s right, he had died. He could remember the pain, and Tommy’s final words to him, then only darkness. Out of lives, he shouldn’t have beenableto respawn.orAfter getting his last life taken by Dream, Tubbo is thrust into the past as a ghost. Determined not to waste his second chance to fix things for the better, he ends up working together with an unlikely, or not so unlikely, ally, hellbent on saving L'manberg and making Dream pay.
Relationships: Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo
Comments: 32
Kudos: 289
Collections: anonymous





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> cw: violence + character death - i did my best not to be too graphic about it

“I wouldn’t have to do this if you had just stayed put, Tommy!” Dream yelled, tightening his grip on Tubbo, dragging him further away from Tommy.

Tubbo swallowed thickly, cringing when Dream’s sword dug further into his neck, trying to keep his tears at bay. “Run, Tommy, don’t listen to him!” He cried, meeting his best friend’s gaze, trying to will him to just leave.

This wasn’t fair, hadn’t they been through enough? Why couldn’t Dream just leave them alone? Why couldn’t he just hand over the discs?! Leverage, that’s why. Just like how Dream was currently using him as leverage, keeping Tommy at bay by threatening his life.

“Let him go, you bastard!” Tommy spat, hanging back. It was such a sight to see him decked out in full Netherite armor and tools, potion particles floating around his person. They had gone all out for this encounter, and it’d been for naught, like it always was when they faced Dream.

“This is all _your_ fault, Tommy!” Dream shouted back as if Tommy hadn’t spoken, “All you had to do was stay in Logstedshire, where you belonged! _Right under my thumb!_ ”

Tubbo yelped when Dream pressed his sword closer to his neck, nicking his skin and causing him to bleed. “You’re insane!” He said, voice pitched an octave higher in his panic and fear.

“I’ll never be under your thumb, never again.” Tommy spat, switching between glaring at Dream and gazing worriedly at Tubbo.

“No?” Dream asked, going still. “Are you sure about that, Tommy?”

Tubbo held his breath, feeling dread bubbling up in his stomach. He met Tommy’s gaze, giving the smallest of nods even if it caused the sword at his neck to dig in further, cutting him deeper. “Stand up for yourself, Tommy.” He urged shakily.

Tommy stood up straight, meeting Dream’s gaze head on defiantly, “I’m bloody fucking positive.” He said, voice steely.

Dream laughed, quietly at first before he grew louder and louder, throwing his head back. “That’s your mistake,” He said, stopping off his laughter abruptly, “Just remember, you could’ve prevented this. If only you had just listened to me.”

Neither of them had time to react, not when Dream moved so quickly, sliding the blade of his sword across Tubbo’s neck. It didn’t process for a moment, that he had been fatally wounded, not until he fell to his knees and blood spurted from his neck. He gasped wetly, hands flying to his throat, clumsily trying to cover the large cut.

“TUBBO!” Tommy screamed in horror, dropping his sword as he broke into a sprint towards him.

“His death is on your hands, Tommy.” Dream said from somewhere behind him, sounding further away then he had just a minute ago.

“No, no, no.” Tommy sobbed as he fell to his knees in front of Tubbo, raising his hands and placing them over Tubbo’s. Blood continued to flow despite their efforts, getting all over Tubbo’s front and Tommy’s hands.

“Tommy,” Tubbo managed to croak, turning his bloody hand over so he could grasp his best friend’s hand, “It’s okay.”

Tommy shook his head rapidly, still trying to stop the blood, but it was useless, and they both knew it. “No it’s fucking not, Tubbo. You can’t die, you can’t leave me alone, not again.”

Oh, those words hurt. Tubbo tried to smile, but it was so hard when he was struggling to breathe while simultaneously choking on his blood. “Love...you.” He said, as his vision began to grow dark around the edges.

“No, Tubbo.” Tommy said mournfully, then quickly added: “I love you too. You’re my brother.”

Tubbo smiled properly, eyes fluttering shut. Those were good final words to hear. He was sorry Tommy had to witness his last life spent, but he was also relieved that his best friend, his brother, was here with him in the end.

He was enveloped in darkness, pain fading away, along with everything else.


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tubbo in the past  
> what'll he do

Tubbo came to standing on a familiar podium, the one he had lost his second life on, the one that had been sent sky high after Wilbur had blown up L'manberg and Techno had unleashed his first set of Withers. Why was he here? Hadn’t he...died? That’s right, he had died. He could remember the pain, and Tommy’s final words to him, then only darkness. Out of lives, he shouldn’t have been able to respawn.

Had he respawned, though? Respawning was...painful, honestly, and this was as if he had just blinked and teleported. Tubbo groaned in confusion, reaching up to hold his head, only to startle when he caught sight of his hands. He was _transparent!_ No, no, not completely. Semi transparent, more accurately. He trembled as he turned his hands front and back, looking at them in shock, trying to process what this meant.

Tubbo knew what it meant. There was only one other person that was semi transparent, that floated between lands lost and confused, that handed out blue whenever someone showed a hint of emotion: Ghostbur. So that had to mean…

He was a ghost. His voice sounded otherworldly as he let out a scream, curling in on himself midair, squeezing his eyes shut. Even dead, he couldn’t rest, could he? He stayed like that for a long minute, before he slowly uncurled, having marginally calmed down. This...this would be fine. He could find Tommy, and hang around him just like Ghostbur did!

“Wait,” He said aloud to himself, “I have all my memories.” He realized with a frown. He wondered if that meant Ghostbur had all his memories, and had just chosen not to acknowledge them.

“...Quackity made a deal,”

Tubbo startled, spinning to find Wilbur standing beside him, speaking into a mic. “Wilbur?!” He gasped, stunned at the sight of him alive. “Wilbur, what’s going on?!” He asked pleadingly, trying to reach out and grab his shoulders, but his hands slipped right through.

“With the leader of Schlatt2020,” Wilbur continued, staring out at the people of L'manberg with a grim face, “Quackity said that no matter what happened, SWAG2020 votes would be pooled in with Schlatt2020’s votes.”

“This doesn’t make sense.” Tubbo wheezed, looking away from Wilbur and instead to the other people standing on the podium. There was Quackity to Wilbur’s left, wearing an older suit he hadn’t worn in ages, and to Wilbur’s right was...Schlatt. “YOU!” He shrieked, rushing over to the ram hybrid.

“You’re dead, both of you are _dead_.” Tubbo stressed, waving his hands in front of Schlatt’s stupid smirking face, hating that look, and the smug glint in his eyes.

“...Schlatt2020 has been inaugurated!” Wilbur announced, interrupting Tubbo’s existential crisis.

“No!” Tubbo cried over the sudden influx of voices, some cheering while others booed.

“Please, Schlatt, step up to the podium and deliver your inauguration speech.” Wilbur said, reluctantly stepping aside. “Come on, Tommy.” He added quietly to Tommy, who was standing further back, looking shell shocked.

“Tommy.” Tubbo said, focusing on his best friend. He looked so terribly young, and that’s when it finally hit Tubbo: he was in the past. He was in the past, as a ghost that apparently no one could see.

When Schlatt took a step towards the mic, Tubbo zeroed in on him, face twisting. “Oh, no you don’t.” He said under his breath, “I won’t let you exile them, not again.”

Tubbo didn’t think, he just dived at Schlatt then proceeded to...sink into him, was the easiest way he could explain it. Schlatt was able to let out a single yell before Tubbo took control, settling into his limbs with surprising ease. It was incredibly strange, to go from feeling nothing as a ghost to suddenly _feeling_ as he, well, possessed Schlatt, who was very much alive.

“Schlatt?” Quackity whispered from his side, looking at him with a mixture of confusion and concern.

Tubbo smiled slowly, ignoring the screaming in the back of his head that sounded a lot like Schlatt, and waved off Quackity’s concern, taking the last step up to the mic. He hummed, reaching out to adjust the mic stand, then leaned in and gazed out at the crowd below him, wary faces peering up at him in turn.

“Well, that was pretty easy,” Tubbo said, a tad weirded out to hear Schlatt’s voice come from his mouth, “What was it I said, the day I got unbanned?” He mused, taking great joy in mocking Schlatt’s original speech. “That’s right, I said things were gonna change. I looked every citizen of L'manberg in the eyes and I said, “You listen to me, this place will look a lot different tomorrow.”. Let’s start making it happen!” He said enthusiastically, clapping his hands together, encouraging others to join in.

“Yessir!” Quackity cheered, clapping wildly and loudly, jumping in place.

“Thank you, Big Q.” Tubbo hummed, “First off, I would like to acknowledge the other parties: Coconut2020, and POG2020. Both very deserving of the presidency.” He said kindly, even if he didn’t _really_ mean it. L’manburg hadn’t worked under Wilbur’s ruling, and he was sure it wouldn’t have worked under Fundy’s ruling if given the chance. For a moment, Tubbo pondered if L'manberg was ever truly meant to be, then pushed the thought away, determined to do what he could to prevent its explosive future.

He continued on, gauging the crowd’s reaction, noting how uncertain everyone looked. “Wilbur Soot and Tommy Innit,” He said, leaning into the mic further, “I appreciate all the work you’ve put into L'manberg, all you’ve sacrificed and fought for. I hope to honor all your hardships, and bring L'manberg into a new age, further expanding this great country!”

The crowd seemed to finally be warming up, some of that uncertainty fading into excitement. Wilbur and Tommy stared up at him warily, looking on edge, as if still expecting something awful to happen. Tubbo wouldn’t let that happen, not this time.

“L'manberg has a solid future, and _together_ I know we can continue its legacy! Thank you all for showing up tonight, and placing your votes. Please, one last round of applause, for L'manberg!” He clapped again, putting on a charming smile that came easy to Schlatt’s face.

To his side Quackity clapped again, but looked confused, sending him a questioning look. “Schlatt,” He whispered under his breath, “I thought you’d, y’know, _get rid_ of some problems.”

Tubbo chuckled, throwing an arm around Quackity’s shoulders and pulling him in close, remembering how Schlatt used to hold him much the same, a display of power to make him feel small. “Now, why would I do that? Wilbur and Tommy are a valuable part of this beautiful country.” He said, low enough so the mic wouldn’t pick it up.

“But-”

“Don’t worry about it, Big Q.” Tubbo said flatly, staring at him from the corner of his eyes.

Quackity swallowed, nodding his head jerkily, “Yessir.”

Tubbo patted his shoulder and pulled away, gesturing for him to follow, “Come now, Vice President, let’s mingle. It’ll make us look good.” He said.

They made their way down from the podium, people hurrying over to greet and congratulate them. Tubbo kept a smile on his face, shaking various people’s hands, trying not to show how unsettled he was to see everyone looking so...not necessarily younger, but more carefree and at ease. He nearly screamed when his younger self approached, startled by the sight of himself, shaking his hand with a strained smile. His younger self looked up at him with a wide smile, looking so very naive. It was incredibly unnerving, and he was relieved when Wilbur and Tommy quickly stepped in.

“Schlatt,” Wilbur said calmly, “Could we talk for a moment, please?”

“Of course!” Tubbo said, forcing false cheer into his voice.

Ghostbur was one thing, but to see Wilbur again in the flesh, alive and...sane, it brought up mixed feelings. All he could think of was when Wilbur turned traitor and blew up L’manburg, then proceeded to mock him, calling him the president of a crater.

“Wilbur.” Tommy hissed, trying to insert himself into the conversation.

“Why don’t we have this talk in the White House, Wilbur?” Schlatt suggested, pointedly excluding Tommy. He felt bad, but seeing his best friend like this hurt.

“We’ll be fine, Tommy, stay here.” Wilbur said firmly, then nodded to Schlatt.

Schlatt looked to Quackity, “Keep everyone entertained, you’re doing great.” He said encouragingly before he turned away, walking alongside Wilbur up to the White House.

“Your speech was very good.” Wilbur complimented, offering him a half smile, “Did you write that beforehand?”

He technically had, hadn’t he? He had stolen some of Schlatt’s original speech, and tossed in some of the things he had said in previous speeches. “Nope,” He said instead, “A great man never has to write a speech beforehand.” He hummed, thinking that was something Schlatt would say.

“Right.” Wilbur agreed, coming to a stop outside the White House to open the door for him, holding it open.

“Thank you.” Tubbo said airily, stepping inside. He led them upstairs to the main office, then realized he probably shouldn’t be as familiar as he was with the building. Oh well, what was done was done, and Wilbur didn’t seem to notice anything off.

“So,” Wilbur started, friendliness vanishing in an instant, “You mentioned in your speech, something about expanding L'manberg?”

Tubbo raised an eyebrow as he wandered over to the desk located across the room, leaning back against it casually. “I did,” He confirmed, crossing his arms, “However, Wilbur, you’re not a part of my cabinet. I’m sure you understand I can’t just reveal sensitive information to you.”

Wilbur frowned, looking like he wanted to argue, before he seemed to catch himself, nodding. “Right, of course. I apologize, I didn’t mean to overstep.” He said, and Tubbo could pick up on the false sincerity.

“Don’t worry about it.” Tubbo hummed, smiling at him flatly, “You should get back out there, I’m sure people are missing you.”

“Hmm, probably. Who knows what Tommy’s gotten up to without me there to watch him.” Wilbur chuckled, and Tubbo had to hold back from snapping and telling him that Tommy didn’t need him as a babysitter. “Are you coming, Mr. President?”

Tubbo shook his head, “In a minute, go on without me.” He said, pushing off the desk and rounding it, settling onto the office chair instead.

Wilbur’s gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before he turned away, heading downstairs and out of sight. Tubbo sighed once he was sure Wilbur was gone, raising a hand to rub at his forehead, only to pause when his hands brushed against a pair of horns. That’s right, this wasn’t his body.

He considered what to do, poking at the horns in curiosity. He couldn’t just stay as Schlatt the entire time, could he? Tubbo wasn’t even sure what the effects of possessing someone for that long would be, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out. Letting out an annoyed huff, he leaned back in the office chair, knowing what he had to do.

Tubbo closed his eyes and concentrated, slowly peeling himself away from Schlatt’s body, until he was fully out, floating above him. He opened his eyes then, watching as Schlatt gasped and lurched forward, hand flying to his chest, over his heart.

“Are you having a heart attack?” Tubbo asked warily, “I’ll possess your dead body, I don’t care.”

Schlatt wheezed, staring up at him with wide frightened eyes, “Wh...what the FUCK DID YOU DO TO ME?!” He yelled, slamming his free hand onto the desk, sending papers scattering onto the floor.

“Calm down,” Tubbo said boredly, “I just possessed you, is all.”

“Possessed?!” Schlatt asked hysterically, “ _How_?”

Tubbo shrugged, floating around him in a slow circle, “I don’t know, I just did.” He said, finding it funny how Schlatt tried to keep an eye on him, having to clumsily spin around in his chair to do so. He looked pathetic, like he had that fateful day he suffered his heart attack.

“Wait, hold on. Is that you, Tubbo?” Schlatt asked in disbelief, narrowing his eyes. “What the fuck happened to you? I just saw you out there! I shook your hand! No, you shook your own hand.” He said, confused.

“You were aware that entire time?” Tubbo asked curiously, perking up, “That’s fascinating, really! What was it like?”

“Fuck you,” Schlatt spat, slipping a shaky hand into his suit jacket and pulling out a flask from an inner pocket, “What do you want from me?”

Tubbo watched as Schlatt unscrewed the top of his flask and took a big gulp, wondering if he should tell him that drinking would lead to his eventual death. Maybe not yet. “What do I want?” He mused, “I want to make things right, Schlatt. Look at me, do I look like the Tubbo you know?”

Schlatt eyed him up and down, then shook his head, “No, you look older, and your neck is all…” He trailed off, gesturing flippantly. 

His neck? Tubbo reached up to feel his neck, flinching when he brushed against a jagged scar he knew he didn’t have before his last encounter with Dream. “I’m from the future,” He said bluntly, hurrying to change the subject, “And I’ve come back to haunt you.” He lied with ease.

“Me? Why me?” Schlatt asked, trying to play off his nervousness by taking another swig from his flask, but Tubbo could see him beginning to sweat.

“Because in the future you suffer a horrible death, Schlatt.” Tubbo said gravely, leaning in towards him, trying not to laugh when Schlatt pressed back into his chair, nearly tipping the whole thing backwards.

“I do?!”

“You do,” Tubbo confirmed, “I came back to prevent that, along with all the other death.”

Schlatt paled, looking like he might be sick, “How much death is there?”

Tubbo shook his head, “You don’t want to know, but don’t worry! I’ve already helped to prevent your death by not exiling Wilbur and Tommy.”

“Hold on, exiling Wilbur and Tommy would lead to my death?” Schlatt asked, looking a little less afraid, and more considering.

"Yes!" Tubbo said quickly, startling him, "They would've gotten Technoblade on their side to fight against you, Schlatt."

"The Blade." Schlatt breathed, looking faint again. He threw his head back and downed more of his alcohol, his hair beginning to stick to his sweaty forehead.

"The Blade," Tubbo echoed ominously, "You know what he did, in my time?"

Schlatt shook his head, looking like he very much didn't want to know. "I don't suppose he switched sides and helped me, did he?"

Tubbo laughed darkly, "No, he didn't. He summoned Withers, and set off TNT." He said, not mentioning the fact that he had done it after Schlatt's death.

"Oh fuck, that sounds like him." Schlatt said over the top of his flask, blinking rapidly.

He was already tipsy, Tubbo realized. That worked perfectly for him, he could play up the fear factor a bit more. "That's why I possessed you, Schlatt. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you beforehand, but if I hadn't done it at that very moment the events would've already been set in motion."

"Why come back to haunt _me_ , specifically?" Schlatt asked, "Why not go possess Wilbur, or Tommy?"

"That's simple," Tubbo said, leaning in closer again and smiling slowly, watching him squirm and drink more, "I was your right hand man."

"You were?" Schlatt asked, tapping his fingers against his flask nervously.

"I was. I watched it all happen, every awful second. That's why I'm here, in the past, so I can prevent all of it! In order to do that, though, I need to possess you." Tubbo explained.

Schlatt immediately shook his head, "No, no fucking way. Once was enough!" He snapped, taking another drink.

Tubbo sighed, "It wasn't. There's still things that need to be done to prevent all the death and destruction. You saw Wilbur earlier, didn't you? He still obviously wants to be president…" He trailed off meaningfully, letting Schlatt fill in the rest himself.

"You think he still might contact Technoblade." Schlatt said in realization.

“Exactly.” Tubbo said, rolling with it. It was actually a fair point, and he made note to keep an eye out for any signs of Technoblade showing up. If he did, well, Tubbo wasn’t above using the few weaknesses he knew he had, such as: Carl, the horse he had once surrendered for, and Phil. Phil, his brother in arms and most trusted friend. Tubbo was fairly certain Technoblade would die for the man.

“Why don’t I just kill Wilbur now, then? Get rid of him before he can reach out!” Schlatt suggested, drawing him back to the present.

Tubbo shook his head, “The President of L'manberg, killing an innocent citizen? You’d be run out of the office within days, Schlatt. People would want your head.”

Schlatt cursed colorfully, running a trembling hand over his face. “You’re right,” He said reluctantly, taking a small sip from his flask, “So you’re telling me the only way to prevent all...that, is to let you keep possessing me?”

“Pretty much.” Tubbo hummed, raising his hand to rub at his chin thoughtfully. “How about a deal, Schlatt? You’re a businessman, if you can trust anything, it’s a good deal.”

“What type of deal?” Schlatt asked suspiciously, slurring his words ever so slightly. Good, that meant he was getting more drunk, which also meant he’d be more agreeable.

Tubbo offered him a friendly smile, the one he often used as President when he wanted to propose a new idea or gain someone’s trust, “I know more than just how you die. I can give you information, Schlatt. Hidden supplies, where people’s bases are, weaknesses.” He listed, hoping at least one of those things enticed him.

“Intel for letting you possess me.” Schlatt said slowly, tilting his head to the side in thought.

“I’ll also be preventing your death.” Tubbo reminded him helpfully. “Do we have a deal?” He asked, offering out his hand.

Schlatt regarded his offered hand suspiciously, considering. “We have a deal.” He said after a minute, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake.

Tubbo was surprised they were able to actually shake hands, thinking back to when his hands had slipped right through Wilbur’s shoulders earlier. Maybe having possessed Schlatt had something to do with it. 

“I made a deal with a ghost.” Schlatt murmured to himself, wiping his hand off on his suit jacket before he threw his head back, chugging from his flask.

Tubbo decided to leave him be for now, since he was already halfway drunk and not a threat to anyone in this state. He approached the nearest wall and hesitated for a moment before he surged forward, phasing through. He shuddered at the odd sensation, patting his chest to make sure he was still whole. Shaking off the feeling of _wrong_ , he floated away from the White House, glad to leave Schlatt behind for the time being.

He approached L'manberg, peering up at the walls and taking it all in. Tubbo could remember when these walls had felt like safety, something to be proud of, but now they simply felt obsolete. Had L'manberg really been this small before? It had felt much larger with the walls torn down, giving them free reign to expand. 

Eventually, he grew bored of staring at the walls and decided he needed to find Wilbur and Tommy, wanting to check in on them. He floated through the wall and shuddered again, making a face. Tubbo wondered how long it’d take him to get used to being a ghost, and just what exactly he could do. While he looked around for either Wilbur or Tommy, he stopped along the way to try and interact with various plants and items he stumbled across, pleased to find he could pick up and carry whatever he liked, knowing that would come in handy further down the line. So, he could possess people, phase through solid objects, and pick things up.

As Tubbo approached the Camarvan, he dropped the dandelion he had been holding and peeked inside, frowning when he found no one. He sighed and thought, wondering if he should check Tommy’s house, then suddenly remembered the bunker he had built around this time.

Tubbo zoomed over to the pond that hid one of the entrances, sinking into the ground to avoid the water entirely. He sighed in relief when he popped into the tunnel below, following it into the bunker itself, looking around and remembering how long it had taken him to build this.

“I don’t trust him.”

“Tommy, he won fair and square. The people voted.”

Tubbo slowed as he heard those familiar voices, peeking around the nearest corner. There, standing in a close circle, was Wilbur, Tommy, and his younger self, looking varying degrees of stressed, tired, and upset.

“But Wilbur, you should be president! After everything…” Tommy trailed off, bowing his head.

Wilbur smiled fondly, placing his hand on Tommy’s shoulder and squeezing lightly, “It’s alright, Toms.”

“Yeah!” His younger self piped up, “Maybe it won’t be so bad! You heard his speech, he wants to continue L'manberg's legacy!”

Tubbo cringed at his younger self. Had he always sounded so naïve and optimistic like that? Although, to be fair, his younger self had yet to go through all the hardships he had, and if he had any say in it, it’d stay like that. He'd make sure of it.

“Look,” Wilbur hummed, “we’ll keep a close eye on him. I don’t trust him, either, but let’s at least give him a chance and see how he does before we start planning a coup d’état.” He joked.

It was strange, seeing and hearing Wilbur be so sane. Tubbo hopped that by having prevented him from getting exiled, he’d stay sane.

“You’re right.” Tommy said, finally relaxing enough to smile.

“I’m always right.” Wilbur teased, bumping their shoulders together.

“Oh shut it!” Tommy laughed, pushing him away playfully.

The three of them dissolved into light hearted conversation, looking more at ease. Tubbo lingered and watched, until he realized he was just torturing himself by doing so. He reluctantly floated away, heart feeling heavy. It was starting to sink in that he was all alone, stuck in the past, and the only person that could currently see him was Schlatt of all people.

As Tubbo made his way back to the surface, he told himself that everything was fine. He’d make certain that L'manberg grew and prospered like it should. He’d keep everyone happy, and he’d protect Wilbur, Tommy, and his younger self so they didn’t have to suffer through what he had. Then, one he was sure everyone was safe, he’d go after Dream.

At the very thought of him, Tubbo saw red. He snarled at thin air, raising a hand to claw at his throat, feeling like he couldn’t breathe. Like he was drowning all over again. It wasn’t until he heard a splash of water that he snapped out of it, breathing hard as he spun around. It was just a Drowned, floating in the pond aimlessly.

Tubbo sighed, all of his anger suddenly slipping away, leaving him feeling exhausted. Could ghosts sleep? He’d have to try, but not here. Not within the confines of these walls, because being inside made him feel claustrophobic. It wasn’t home, any longer. He phased through the nearest wall, the sensation feeling less odd the more he did it.

He wandered with no real destination in mind, taking in the old sights and noting what had yet to be built. Tubbo eventually found himself at the bench he and Tommy used to sit while listening to his discs, slowing to a stop beside it. He took a deep breath and sat down, running his fingers over the wood carefully. Looks like he couldn’t stop digging up old bittersweet memories. Feeling melancholy, he laid down across the bench and curled up as tight as he could, closing his eyes, wanting to sleep for just awhile. Just a little while, where he didn’t have to dwell on the past he was stuck in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh man, i had So many different drafts for tubbo and schlatt's first interaction with differing dynamics. one had schlatt way more calm and calling out tubbo on his lies, and another where schlatt was again calmer and tubbo still talked him into a deal. but then i decided FUCK IT tubbo deserves to have the upper hand, and writing schlatt panicking is really fun.
> 
> i proof read this like a handful of times but i'm sure i'll still find mistakes after i post :p
> 
> hope you enjoyed! comments are appreciated and keep me motivated :)


	3. Chapter Two

Ghosts could sleep, because the next time Tubbo opened his eyes it was early morning. As he sat up he tried to decide if he felt well rested or not, all the while looking around. He didn’t feel as emotionally wrung out as he had before resting, so he supposed the answer was yes.

Tubbo rose from the bench, giving the wooden backing a gentle pat before he took off towards L'manberg, going past it and to the White House instead. Time to see if Schlatt was terribly hungover or not. Either way, he’d be needing to borrow his body.

To his utmost surprise, when he phased through the upper floor he found Schlatt already awake, seemingly sober and looking through stacks of paper. “What’re you doing?” Tubbo asked, to which Schlatt replied with a scream.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!” Schlatt demanded, glaring at him.

Tubbo blinked, then threw his head back and laughed, “Oh, Schlatt, you don’t need me for that!” He wheezed.

Schlatt glare intensified briefly before he sighed, raising his hand to rub at his eyes tiredly. “I was looking over all this paperwork. Seems like Soot never did so.” He grumbled.

“Well, yeah.” Tubbo said as his laughter died out, smiling to himself in amusement. He floated over to look at the papers, peering down at the jumbled words and picking out familiar phrases. Looks like the paperwork he had to deal with when he became President. “He had Tommy as his right hand man, did you think work actually got done?” He mused. Don’t get him wrong, Tubbo loved his best friend, but Tommy and responsibility? They never mixed. He had learned that the hard way.

“Hey,” Schlatt said before he could spiral into any unpleasant memories, “Since you were my right hand man, you must be familiar with all this.” He gestured to the paperwork pointedly, raising an eyebrow.

Tubbo wrinkled his nose, quickly backing away, “No, you’re not putting all that work on me again, Schlatt.”

“Dammit.” Schlatt huffed, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “What do you want?” He asked, eyeing him distrustfully.

“Oh, a lot of things.” Tubbo said, being purposely obtuse. “I’d like to rebuild my house, I think. Hmm, maybe find some-”

“Stop,” Schlatt interrupted, “You know what I meant. What do you want now, why’re you here?”

Tubbo floated above his desk lazily, meeting his gaze. “I need to talk to Wilbur as you.”

Schlatt made a face, having to lean even further back in his chair to maintain eye contact. “About what?” He questioned, tapping his fingers restlessly against his arm.

“About tearing down L'manberg's walls.” Tubbo answered honestly.

“Well, you’re in luck, Tubbo. I already have plans to tear down those ugly ass walls.” Schlatt said smugly, “So there’s no need for you to possess me.”

“There very much is.” Tubbo hissed, getting in his face and watching him flinch, “You’ll do it in a way that’ll make people hate you, Schlatt. I know, I’ve seen it happen.”

Schlatt swallowed nervously, wheeling his chair back to put some space between them. “Not every great President is well loved.” He pointed out.

Tubbo rolled his eyes, backing up a bit, “Alright, consider this, then. I speak to Wilbur, propose the idea, and convince him it’s actually a great idea, and then when people see the founder of L'manberg agreeing to have the walls torn down? They’ll be less likely to hate your guts. It’d be a win win.”

“Wilbur would be getting all the credit then!” Schlatt complained, throwing his hands up in the air.

“He really wont.” Tubbo disagreed, “Especially if they see their President out there, helping tear down the walls.”

“You’re going to make me do work.” Schlatt said dryly, but sighed a second later and nodded. “Fine, you can possess me...if you do this paperwork, first.” 

Tubbo was tempted to just possess him then and there, but if his time as President had taught him anything, it was how to compromise. “Deal.” He said finally, offering out his hand like he had last night.

They shook on it and Tubbo quickly got to work, shooing Schlatt aside so he could use the desk. Almost immediately, he regretted agreeing, glaring down at the paperwork and struggling to read through it. It was more slow going then he had hoped, but thankfully he was fairly familiar with most of the paperwork, picking out key phrases and going from there.

“How’d you ever get anything done while working at this snails pace?” Schlatt commented from the side, spinning lazy circles in his chair, staring up at the ceiling in boredom.

“You know I’m dyslexic, right?” Tubbo asked dryly, signing Schlatt’s name on yet another dotted line.

Schlatt paused his spinning and turned his head to regard him carefully, “You’re not…” He said slowly, unsure. 

“I am.” Tubbo confirmed, neatly stacking the handful of papers he had already signed. “Have been my whole life, thank you very much.”

“Shit,” Schlatt cursed, “You don’t have to do anymore, I got it.” He said awkwardly, wheeling back over.

Tubbo backed off without arguing, not about to say no to not having to do any more paperwork.

Schlatt glanced at the papers he had already signed, nodding his approval. “You could’ve mentioned you were dyslexic beforehand, kid.” He grumbled.

Tubbo shrugged, floating above his desk without a care, “Whatever. Can I possess you now?”

“Deals a deal, I guess.” Schlatt said reluctantly, standing up from his chair. “How do we do this?”

“Just stay still.” Tubbo advised, thinking back to how he had possessed Schlatt before, in the heat of the moment.

He floated closer, then simply phased into him, sinking into his various limbs until he had complete control. Tubbo took a moment to stretch, getting used to the body that was not his.

“ _This is weird_.” Schlatt said in the back of his head, startling them both.

“Why can I hear you?” Tubbo wondered, knowing he hadn’t been able last time.

“ _Fuck if I know. Maybe it’s because I gave you my permission this time_.” Schlatt suggested, giving the mental equivalent of a shrug.

“Maybe,” Tubbo agreed as he pulled up the chat through Schlatt’s communicator, sending a private message to Wilbur. He asked to meet up outside the L’manberg walls to discuss something, keeping it vague on purpose.

“ _Bring Quackity_."

Tubbo hummed in acknowledgment, sending off a message to Quackity as well, telling him to meet him at the White House. He made sure he looked presentable before he took the stairs down, stepping outside and pausing to inhale the fresh morning air. He admired the sight of L’manberg, still whole and not one big crater. Tubbo never wanted to see his country like that again.

“Mr. President!” Quackity hollered as he approached, drawing him from his thoughts. When he looked over he spotted Quackity coming over the nearest hill, waving his arm back and forth excitedly. “What’s on the agenda today?!” He asked, sliding down the rest of the hill before hurrying over to his side.

“Walk with me, Big Q.” Tubbo said conversationally, walking down the steps of the White House. “You see those walls?” He asked, gesturing towards L’manberg.

“I do! They’re ugly, a reallll eyesore.” Quackity said, rubbing his hands together as he trailed behind him closely.

“That’s right, they are, and that’s why I want them to come down.” Tubbo revealed his plan with a slow smile, “Before we start tearing it down, though, we need to talk to Wilbur.”

“Huh?” Quackity groaned, “We don’t need that guy's permission, he’s old news!”

Tubbo nodded in agreement, “He is, but these walls have been here since the beginning. They have history, history that people cherish. What do you think would happen if we were to tear the walls down with no warning?”

Quackity scrunched his nose up in thought, crossing his arms loosely, “Well...people would be pissed, wouldn’t they?”

“Exactly!” Tubbo exclaimed, “Now, if we got Wilbur on our side, and people saw him agreeing? They wouldn’t think it such a bad idea, then.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Quackity sighed, “but it’s not as fun as just taking it down.”

“Trust me.” Tubbo said winningly, straightening up as they approached the walls.

Not far off, Wilbur was already waiting for them, still dressed in his revolutionary garb and eyeing them with distrust. “Mr. President, Vice President.” He greeted with a strained smile, meeting them halfway.

“Good morning!” Quackity greeted cheerfully in turn.

Tubbo smiled and made himself appear relaxed and friendly, careful not to overdo it. “Wilbur, morning.” He said politely, “I hope I didn’t interrupt breakfast.”

Wilbur shook his head, “No, no. I usually have a late breakfast, anyway.” He said absently. “Now, you didn’t come here to talk about breakfast, did you?”

“No,” Tubbo laughed, “I wanted to run something by you, and I’d like you to try and keep an open mind.”

“Alright…”

“I want to tear down these walls.” He said bluntly, watching as Wilbur’s face immediately twisted in outrage.

“ _What_?” He demanded, “These walls are important!”

“Woah, woah.” Quackity piped in, “We didn’t say they weren’t! These walls are super important!”

Tubbo nodded along, “They are, which is why I’ve come to talk to you first. These walls are important, but they were built in a different time. L'manberg has changed, for the better." He said sincerely.

"So that means the walls have to come down?" Wilbur scoffed, standing to his full height, eyes narrowed.

"Look," Tubbo started, struggling to explain, "These walls were built when you were still fighting for your independence. You got that, and now it's time to grow! L'manberg shouldn't be restricted to just these walls."

To his side, Quackity nodded and helpfully piped up, "Besides! No one ever said we couldn't _rebuild_ the walls, eventually. Can you picture how awesome that'd be?"

The whole point was to have no walls, but Tubbo didn't say anything, knowing it might help persuade Wilbur. "Is this all you see for your country, Wilbur?" Tubbo asked, turning to the walls in front of them. "L'manberg, forever as it is, locked in the confines of the Dream SMP?"

"It'd be a real fuck you to Dream if we took the walls down and expanded further into his territory." Quackity said eagerly.

Wilbur was so quiet for a moment that Tubbo had to look over, worried. His lips were pressed together in a thin line, his gaze turned to the massive wall in front of them, looking deep in thought, and torn about it.

"You mean that?" Wilbur eventually asked, tearing his gaze away from the wall to look between Tubbo and Quackity.

"Which part?" Tubbo hummed curiously.

"It'd be a fuck you to Dream." Wilbur clarified, "taking over his territory…"

" _You got him_." Schlatt said from the back of his head, sounding...impressed?

"Absolutely!" Quackity answered for him, "The biggest fuck you."

Wilbur gave a half smile in response, but looked to Tubbo for confirmation. "If there's anything I enjoy, it's...inconveniencing Dream." He said, with feeling.

Tubbo could agree with that, immensely. "We'd do more than just inconvenience him." He said, smiling with his teeth, letting some of his viciousness seep through. Tubbo had never been like this before his death, had he? Surely he'd been less bitter, less angry, less _manipulative_.

"...Thank you, Mr. President, for talking to me about this, first." Wilbur said, "It'll be hard, to see the wall come down, but you're right, I need to be thinking of the future."

"I'm glad you agree, Wilbur." Tubbo said, clapping his hands together once. "We'll get started right away, make an announcement and everything."

"Can I have time to tell some people, first?" Wilbur asked, "It'd be best if they heard it from me."

Tubbo nodded, "We'll give you a bit of time." He agreed, grinning widely and dropping his hands to his sides.

"Thank you." Wilbur said, looking like he wanted to say something more but smiled instead. He turned, walking away with purpose.

“I can’t believe you sold that.” Quackity whispered as they watched Wilbur walk with his head held high.

Tubbo elbowed him in the side lightly to get him to be quiet, keeping the grin on his face until he was sure Wilbur was out of earshot. “Now we can celebrate.” He said, his grin fading into a relaxed smile.

“Woooo!” Quackity cheered, latching onto his arm as he jumped up and down, “You’re the man, Schlatt!”

Tubbo laughed, letting the other cling to him, “I’m surprised that went over so well.” He mused, slipping his hands into his pant pockets. “You did good, too, Big Q.” He said sincerely.

Quackity was thrown off by the praise, but quickly shook it off, swiping at his nose with a pleased grin. “It was nothing.” He said, playing it cool.

“ _Who knew he’d be so helpful_.” Schlatt mused thoughtfully.

If you kept Quackity motivated enough, and made sure he felt appreciated, he’d do great work. If you didn’t, well, he’d go off the rails and turn into a loose cannon. Tubbo had experienced it first hand, but overall, Quackity had been an excellent Vice President.

“Let’s start preparations.” Tubbo suggested, guiding him towards the podium. “Would you mind gathering everyone here, within the hour?”

“On it!” Quackity said, letting go of his arm so he could pull up his communicator, sending off a message for everyone to gather at the podium soon, to hear an announcement. “You know,” He mused once he was done, folding his hands behind his neck as they walked, “We should add more people to the cabinet, ‘cause no offense, Mr. President, but messaging everyone is bitch work. I’m the Vice President, aren’t I?”

Tubbo thought about it, going through his head the possible cabinets. “That’s not a bad idea...how about that Fundy guy?” He mused, after debating if it was a good suggestion or not.

“The furry?” Quackity huffed in confusion.

“ _Soot’s kid_?”

“I see potential in him, is all.” Tubbo shrugged. Like Quackity, with enough praise and motivation, Fundy would shape up to be a good part of the cabinet.

“I’ll take your word for it!” Quackity said agreeably, “Want me to vet him first?”

Tubbo nodded, beginning to climb up the hill so they could actually get up to the podium. “Good thinking, thank you. I need to go into the White House for a bit, why don’t you entertain everyone while they wait?”

Quackity perked up, nodding eagerly, “Oh, Schlatt, I’m going to entertain the shit out of everyone, you’ll see.”

Tubbo waved him off with a smile, heading to the White House. He went inside and climbed the stairs, up into Schlatt’s office, letting out a sigh of relief once he was alone. Well, relatively alone.

“ _Do I get my body back now_?”

“Yeah, hold on.” Tubbo mumbled, closing his eyes and concentrating. 

It was much easier to peel himself away from Schlatt then it had been last night, he found. Again he wondered if it was because Schlatt had agreed to being possessed this time.

“Ugh, finally.” Schlatt said, smoothing out his suit carefully. “Figures you’d have me give the announcement.”

“You like giving speeches.” Tubbo rolled his eyes as he carefully flexed his hands into fists a few times, getting used to his ghostly body again.

Being a ghost, everything felt...muted. Like things were in grayscale. Tubbo had noticed that even emotions felt different, fuzzy until he really focused on them, with anger and sadness being the easiest to feel and process, but even then it came in bouts.

“Are you coming?” Schlatt asked, interrupting his musing.

Tubbo blinked a few times before he nodded, "I'll be in the crowd, watching. I want to hear everyone’s reaction.”

Schlatt reached up to smooth back his hair, “Suit yourself.” He said, dropping his hand to his suit jacket after, slipping it underneath to fish out his flask.

At Tubbo’s unimpressed stare, Schlatt rolled his eyes and flipped him off while he took a drink, “Ever heard of liquid courage, Tubbo?”

"Sounds like an excuse." Tubbo sniped back, "Try not to get drunk before you can even make the announcement." He said before he phased through the nearest wall, floating outside.

He took his time making his way down to the front of the podium, looking at the small crowd that had already gathered. Tubbo could hear them talking casually, catching up while also wondering what kind of announcement there'd be. He perked up when he spotted Wilbur approach, flanked by Tommy, his younger self, and Niki. Wilbur looked grim and determined, while the other three simply looked grim. It couldn't be helped. He remembered their reaction the first time, especially Niki's. Tubbo had hated seeing her so upset, and he made a note to himself to keep Schlatt off her back.

More people began to file in, and from above Quackity started to tell jokes of all things, keeping everyone entertained just as he said he would. It was such a stark difference to what had happened in Tubbo's time, where the atmosphere had been tense and people had been afraid.

"Oh, here comes the President, everyone!" Quackity announced, stopping his bit half way through.

Schlatt stepped up to the mic, saying thanks to Quackity and patting him on the shoulder. When he stepped aside, Schlatt faced the crown and put on a wide smile, leaning into the mic.

"People of L'manberg!" Schlatt exclaimed, signalling the start of his speech. Tubbo made his way over to Wilbur and the others, most interested in what their reactions would be. "The sun rises over another beautiful day of our country, and the sun rises on another chapter in our country's history, the next page of the textbook that children will be reading until the end of time. I reckon our nation needs to expand!" He paused there, taking in people's reactions so far. Slowly, he smirked, "I reckon we've done our country a great disservice, I reckon we take down the walls."

Expectedly, the crowd burst into shocked cries. At Wilbur's side, Niki let out a shaky breath, Tommy looked away in anger, and his younger self looked stricken. Meanwhile Wilbur closed his eyes, taking a moment to collect himself.

"Wilbur, this isn't right." Niki said mournfully, hanging her head.

"It'll be alright, Niki." Wilbur said comfortingly, pulling her in for a one armed hug.

"I'm launching a works project!" Schlatt continued, cutting through the outcry, "All citizens of L'manberg, I'm _asking_ for volunteers. I know this comes as a shock, and I'm sure many of you are...apprehensive, but think of your country! L'manberg needs you." He said, sweeping his gaze across the crowd.

"Now, enough talk from me. I’d like to welcome WIlbur Soot to the stage, to say a few words on the behalf of those that originally built the walls!" Schlatt announced, clapping his hands together.

Everyone slowly joined in on the applause, some warming up as they watched Wilbur approach the podium. "This is very gracious, thank you, Schlatt.” Wilbur said once he had made his way up, shaking Schlatt’s hand before he turned to speak into the mic. “This’ll be a very big change for L'manberg, but a change for the better. Schlatt explained to me some of his future plans for expanding, and that starts with these walls that long kept us safe. That danger we faced before, it’s passed! Peace treaties have been signed, and L'manberg has been thrust into an age of freedom. Let’s show those that once oppressed us that we no longer need these walls to defend ourselves. Our L'manberg!”

The crowd burst into thunderous applause and cheers, no one voice being able to be heard over another. Even Tommy, his younger self, and Niki, who had looked the most grim, seemed moved by Wilbur’s speech. They weren't enthused, not by any means, but they seemed hopeful, at least.

Tubbo smiled and slipped away towards the back of the crowd, wanting to get away from all the noise. As he backed up, he watched as Schlatt threw an arm around Wilbur’s shoulders, both of them smiling winningly for the crowd. Tubbo knew Wilbur didn’t fully trust Schlatt, and Schlatt was just petty, but it was a good act.

He laughed to himself, turning away with the intent to wander off and be by himself, wanting to gather his thoughts, but when he spun around he came face to face with a familiar mask that plagued his thoughts near constantly.

Tubbo instinctively screamed in fear, backing away rapidly. It was only when Dream didn’t react that he remembered that no one but Schlatt could currently see him. He wheezed, raising a hand to hold his throat, vision going blurry as he was thrown into a flashback.

“Is it just me, or was Wilbur mocking us with that speech?” Sapnap asked im a bored tone as he came up to Dream’s side, raising his elbow and resting it on Dream’s shoulder casually.

Tubbo flinched when Dream hummed thoughtfully, letting out a whimper involuntarily and backing up a bit more. 

“Taunting us, more like it.” Dream said with a laugh, lowering his hand to let it rest on the sword hanging off his hip.

“But he’s right, there are peace treaties still in place.” George chimed in, approaching Dream’s other side. He reached up to adjust his obnoxiously large sunglasses, peering at the crowd in distaste. “Why’re they so _loud_?”

“Aw, George’s poor ears hurt?” Sapnap said in a baby voice, chuckling when George turned to glare at him.

Tubbo tuned out the rest of their bickering, focusing on Dream, who was silent. Silent wasn’t good, silent meant plotting. Plotting was bad. Dream tilted his head to the side suddenly, and for just a second, Tubbo was sure Dream had seen him.

He didn’t stick around to confirm, fleeing into the crowd. He phased through people left and right without slowing, running on fear and adrenaline. He needed...he needed help.

“Thank you for gathering, everyone!”

That’s right, Schlatt could help, right? It didn’t matter, he was the only one that could see him anyway. Tubbo floated up to the podium, going straight to him and getting in his face. Schlatt startled at his sudden appearance, looking at him questioningly.

“White House, now.” Tubbo said urgently, leaving before Schlatt could try to reply.

The more distance he put between him and Dream, the better he’d feel. He phased through the upper floor of the White House, beginning to pace the length of Schlatt’s office as he waited for the man.

He showed up a few minutes later, looking annoyed, “What the hell happened, Tubbo?”

How should he explain? “I’m not just trying to prevent your death,” He began to explain quietly, his neck starting to itch, “I want to prevent my own death, too.”

Immediately, Schlatt’s gaze fell to his neck. Tubbo had to keep from snarling at him, turning away instead. He floated over to the nearest window, peering outside nervously, half expecting to see a flash of green somewhere.

“Just before I was sent back into the past, here, Dream killed me.” He admitted, trembling at the memory.

“ _Dream_?” Schlatt asked in shock, “Why would he go after you?”

“Because he’s an evil prick that can’t be trusted!” Tubbo exploded, whirling around to face Schlatt. “He lies and manipulates! He’ll say anything to get you on his side, to make sure you turn against your closest friends, and then spit in your face and back stab you after!” He raged, shaking as he continued. “Don’t trust Dream, Schlatt! Promise me!”

“Alright, alright!” Schlatt exclaimed, looking afraid as he took a stumbling step back.

Tubbo’s face twisted and he hurried outside, leaving the office to cool down. He didn’t look where he was going, just continued to flee. How did he ever expect to face Dream if this was how he reacted at the very sight of him?

Tubbo stopped abruptly, looking around and realizing he was at Tommy’s house. Why did he always subconsciously find himself here, or near here? He sighed shakily, attempting to gather his panicked thoughts and haywire emotions.

This was how he’d work up the nerve to face Dream, by reminding himself just who exactly he was doing it for: Tommy. His best friend, his brother. Too long he had been blinded to the extent of damage Dream had been inflicting on Tommy: The discs, the wars, having him exiled, all the manipulation...Tubbo should’ve known, should’ve stuck by the person he cared for the most.

Now, though, he had a second chance. Not just to keep L'manberg safe, but to keep Tommy safe. It was the least he could do. Maybe once Dream was taken care of, Tubbo could try contacting this Tommy of the past. Until then, he’d do everything in his power to ensure he was protected.

Tubbo gazed at Tommy’s house for a few more minutes, letting himself calm down completely. He forced himself to turn away before he could linger too long, knowing he had work to do and plans to put in action. Dream would get what was coming to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when i tell you i struggled with this chapter oh my god. i had 70% of it written then hit a brick wall out of no where! finally pushed myself to finish it, and im mostly satisfied with it :p
> 
> next chapter is about half way written, let's hope i don't get writer's block again


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